


Michael

by foramomentonly



Series: Sanders Auto [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Malex, the lost decade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24171280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foramomentonly/pseuds/foramomentonly
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Sanders Auto [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744567
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	Michael

Michael unloads the part Sanders sent him two towns over to pick up, knowing Sanders is gonna want him to replace it before he takes off and already planning to blow off the work until later in the night, maybe even the morning. Depends on the man Michael is hoping to run into tonight at The Pony, and if he can convince him to stick around after.

Michael finds Sanders reclining in one of the rusty chairs surrounding the fire pit, six pack beside him and a cold one already half empty in his hand.

"Manes boy stopped by earlier," Sanders calls over his should in lieu of a greeting, huffing as Michael kicks up a cloud of dust as he passes, snatching a beer from the pack as he goes. "The youngest. Needed an oil change."

Michael twists the cap off his bottle and takes a long swig. He doesn't sit.

"And?"

"And I told him to come back in an hour."

Michael's pulse quickens and he fights a smile, huffing a breath and cocking his hip in feigned exasperation.

"You too important to do it yourself or just too old?"

Sanders grunts a laugh, swishing the dregs of his beer before bringing the bottle to his lips and draining it.

"Not _my_ hands the kid wants in his engine."

Michael nearly spits a mouthful of beer into the dirt, swallowing it instead in one painful gulp and dragging the back of his hand slow across his mouth, stalling.

"What'd you mean by that?" he asks carefully.

Sanders shakes his head and stands, tossing his empty into an old drum they use to collect trash.

"You two deserve each other," he grumbles, but a hint of regret creeps into his gruff tone. "I don't care what you do, son, as long as you don't do it on my time."

Michael raises a brow, and the old man huffs.

Yeah," he sighs, "guess we both know that ship done sailed."

When Michael doesn't respond, Sanders only shrugs.

"He's a good kid," he continues. "The rest of his family are a pack of goddamn animals, but. He's good people."

He holds Michael's gaze, a loaded silence hanging heavy between them. Then he looks away, coughs, and spits into the dust.

"See you tomorrow, son," he calls over his shoulder as he heads for his truck. "Maybe you could replace that part while you wait."


End file.
